by Anthology
"Mabs!"
"Well, it's true, isn't it? No matter how crazy you may be about a man or how crazy he may be about you, when you have to live together three hundred and sixty-five days a year for goodness knows how many years, you're bound to bore one another after a while. After I'm married, I'm going to make Tommy take at least two weeks' vacation from me every year and go off with some of his men friends. Then I'll visit my old classmates, and when we get home again we'll have a lot of new ideas and experiences to talk about. The trouble is, so many girls think that getting married makes some miraculous, mysterious change in human nature and that they can keep on living with a man eternally without ever wanting to get away from him — or he from them — just because they're in love with him. Then, when the inevitable happens and he feels that he'd like a change for a while, the poor things believe their romance is shattered and they'll never be happy again. It's so silly! Why can't they understand that he just wants to be with men again, and put his feet on tables and chairs, and go without shaving, and tell the kind of stories women aren't supposed to hear, and enjoy life the way he used to before he was tied down to a wife and family? If they'd only let him go when they see he's getting restless, he'd come back soon enough, ten times more devoted and stay-at-homey than before."
"You do have the most — the most unusual ideas, Mabs! It always seemed to me that when marriage brought the refining influence of a woman into a man's life, he'd want to forget his rough, bachelor ways and find all the companionship he needed in his wife."
"Eve, precious, you're just as bad as the rest of 'em. You can't make a man an absolutely different being by marrying him. You'll probably be able to rub off some of the worst corners, so that he'll remember to wipe his feet when he comes into the house and won't swear when he loses his collar button, but that's about all. The two big mistakes girls often make, when they marry, is either to believe the man they love already stands on a little pedestal of his own, head and shoulders above the ordinary run of mortals, or else that they can pull him out of the depths, after they've married him, and set him up on one and keep him there. You don't happen to remember what I did with that opal brooch of mine, do you? — and, oh Eve, please hook me while you think."
"Didn't you lend it to Connie the last time she was out here, Mabs? She's such an absent-minded soul, she probably forgot to give it back to you. Now I think of it, I'm almost sure I remember seeing her with it on — don't squirm so, sis — but you can wear my turquoise one if you'd like — I won't want it myself."
"Eve, darling, you're just a heavenly being!" exclaimed the younger girl, twisting her narrow shoulders to get as complete a view of herself as possible in the tall mirror. "It'd be the very thing, and I appreciate you most to pieces. If he can resist my charms tonight!—"
"Well, he's held out manfully so far," returned Evelyn, sliding an arm about her sister's waist as they left the room together. "I'm almost afraid, dear, that Tom is so impressed with his own unworthiness that he won't ask you at all. He said something to me the last time he called—"
"Oh, I don't suppose he is worthy of me, as far as that goes — I wouldn't have him if he was — he'd be absolutely insufferable. But he'll propose all right — don't you worry. If he doesn't, I'll do it myself."
"Mabel!"
"Why not? D'you think I'd let any idiotic convention stand between me and the man I want? Not much, my Evelina!"
"Mabs, you're absolutely hopeless, but I love you heaps all the same" — she drew the girl to her with an affectionate little hug — "Hello, Jimmy! So you decided you could come after all? I'm awfully glad you could!"
"Tommy telegraphed that he'd come out to Ann Arbor and bring me back by force, if I wouldn't come peaceably," said Merriam, looking up at her with a light in his eyes as she descended the last few steps. "So I thought I'd better come peaceably — besides, I doubt if I could have stayed away, anyhow."
"You can go right up to your old room. You won't mind if we don't wait dinner for you, will you? I expect the rest are about starved, and mother always insists that everything will be spoiled if we're five minutes beyond the appointed time."
"I won't be long — Mabs, you look like Tennyson's 'queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.' If I wasn't long past such frivolities, I'd fall in love with you on the spot."
"Don't count too much on your immunity," she laughed, giving him her hand; "I'm after all the scalps I can get."
"Including that of a certain — there, there, you mustn't be provoked at your big brother. I was wrong to tease you about such a thing."
"I expect it's pretty much common property," said Mabel, trying to look angry and failing signally in the attempt; "as far as the family is concerned, at any rate. See you later."
"Does my little sister get all the compliments?" asked Evelyn, smiling, as Merriam still hesitated.
"You're wonderful," he returned in a low voice; "as you always are. Can one say more?"
She coloured faintly and moved a step towards the sitting-room.
"I want to have a talk with you after dinner," he went on quickly. "May I?"
She gazed past him thoughtfully for a moment without answering.
"May I?" he persisted.
"Why, yes — of course," she said, raising her grave, grey eyes to his and with a nod of her beautiful head, she passed on to join the others.
Hooker was talking animatedly with Mr. Thornton in front of the broad fireplace, but he broke off abruptly as she entered and came forward to greet her.
"Well, you're certainly stunning to-night," he exclaimed, surveying her with frank admiration. "'Tisn't fair for one family to have such a monopoly of beauty."
His thinness and pallor bore eloquent testimony to his close race with death, but he moved with the same vigour and alertness as of old and his voice had lost none of its accustomed ring. He wore the dark-blue full dress of his Service, resplendent with its fringed gold epaulets and lace, and on his breast was the small bronze medal which spoke of unwavering courage and duty well performed. The brilliant uniform brought a sudden furrow of pain to Evelyn's smooth forehead. She thought of another who might have stood there; of another who might have worn the dress of the Service and borne a medal on his breast. But that hope was long dead.
"Tommy's in a complimentary mood this evening," said Mabel with an air of proprietorship. "He told me that I walked in beauty like the night. He must have read poetry prodigiously in the hospital."
"I'm not altogether a Philistine, Mabs," retorted the naval officer, reddening slightly. "I'd like to bet right now that I know as much about literature as you do."
"Oh, I don't doubt it for a minute. I specialised in history and athletics. But let's go out — I know you're always hungry."
They moved on into the brightly-lighted dining-room and Hooker happily seated himself by the younger girl, while the empty chair beside Evelyn waited for the tarrying Professor. He arrived before the party had well settled itself to the meal, and with a word of greeting to his host and hostess and a friendly nod to the sailor, confined himself for an interval to soup and silence.
"Must have had a hard trip," remarked Hooker, observing the ravages Merriam was creating.
"I only had time for a sandwich between trains at noon," said Jim, looking up; "I confess I'm rather famished."
"How is your work going, James?" asked Mr. Thornton paternally. "Is your book nearly finished?"
"Very nearly, sir. I flatter myself that when it comes out, there'll be something of a stir in chemical circles. If they don't turn me off for my heresies, I ought to achieve the beginnings of a reputation."
"I'm sure you will," said Evelyn warmly; "and you certainly deserve it. You've been working like a slave."
"If you're thinking of running for president on the strength of it," offered Mabel across the table, "I'll vote for you. Only you must promise to be elected. I'm not going to waste my divine right of suffrage."
"Will you have a vote at the next presid
ential election, Mabs?"
"Yes, I'll just about be old enough. My birthday's the tenth and the election comes on the thirtieth."
"Not this time — the thirtieth's Sunday. How about your residence?"
"I'll vote in Poughkeepsie. The girls have organised a Hamilton club already and I'm on the campaign committee."
"I congratulate you — both on the election and your party predilection. Are you a Republican too, Eve?"
"I'm anything that has for its platform giving the women of the United States a vote in Federation affairs. It's a shame we haven't it already. France and Great Britain and Prussia have granted it, and now they have to wait until the other countries come in."
"Why, you have what amounts to almost the same thing, daughter," said Mr. Thornton. "You elect the men who govern this country and they have something to say about what the policy of the United States will be towards the other countries and the Federation."
"I know, father, but they ought to let us vote for the Commissioner and in the Federation referendums. If the principle holds good for one country, it should for the whole world."
"The remedy lies in your own hands," suggested Hooker. "Send men to Congress who will give you a vote in international affairs and the thing's done."
"The trouble is," observed Merriam, "that the women of the country haven't yet learned to get together on a question. They're too easily drawn off by promises of minor reforms, like the National Labour Bureau plank the Democrats put in their platform last year, and I must say, I think they're swayed too much by sentiment."
"That's rank heresy, James," said Mrs. Thornton. "Harris, fill Professor Merriam's glass — Mr. Thornton begged and prayed me to vote for McCulloch for governor at the last election, but I was adamant."
"Just proves what I said," retorted Merriam, emphasising with his fork on the table. "Van Zandt promised to support that factory girl measure, which, by the way, wasn't a state issue at all, and would have been taken up pretty soon by the Federal Industrial Commission, and you women all flocked to him, although McCulloch had the better record and was a stronger man in every way. Why, he practically put through by himself the state constabulary bill when he was in the legislature, and cleaned up that railroad scandal and —"
"Sentiment isn't a bad thing sometimes," interrupted Evelyn. "It—"
"I suppose if the women had had a vote in Federation matters," Jim snorted without heeding her, "the International Police would have been abolished five years ago; and a nice mess we'd have been in then!"
"Not if I'd had anything to say about it," said Mabel. "I'd have been in favour of increasing it, if anything."
"Well, you're blessed with superior intelligence and discernment, Mabs," said Hooker admiringly.
"Meaning that I'm not?" observed Evelyn, laughing at his confusion. "Why, Tommy!"
"Not at all," stammered the embarrassed officer; "I only meant — of course you're just as clever — only—"
"Better give it up, Tom," said Merriam with a grin. "Scylla and Charybdis won't be in it with the dilemma you'll find yourself in if you keep on."
"James is right, though," said Mr. Thornton soberly. "The women all over the world were over- poweringly in favour of reducing the Police. McPherson told me when he got back from the continent that they were banding together to urge the men to vote for the reduction of the force. Purely a matter of sentiment, of course. It was the idea of an armament of any kind, coupled with the extravagant ideals of the missionaries and optimists in the Far East. We're none of us in favour of militarism, but that and leaving the Federation unprotected are two entirely different things. My father told me — I was too little then to remember anything about it — that there was the same sentiment in the United States while the War of the Nations was going on in Europe, and it was only pure luck that saved the country from an invasion which it would have been powerless to resist."
"Well, the question has been settled now," observed Hooker. "And we've been saved — largely through luck, of course, and the wisdom of the head of the Federation. There's a man for you — and a leader of men."
"The world won't see another like him in a hurry," agreed Jim. "It's very, very fortunate that we had him to guide us in our hour of trial."
"Did you hear that Jack Coleman had been wounded?" said Mabel in an aside to the naval officer. "He volunteered, you know, last summer and was only in action three days. I got the most heart-broken note from Connie yesterday. She says he'll be a cripple all the rest of his life. Isn't it awful?"
"That's the worst of war — the terrible waste. If it would only use up the offscourings of society — the people who are nothing but a drain on the resources of civilisation — it wouldn't be so bad. But it always takes the best, and those it doesn't kill it often makes useless, as far as any future service they can render to the world is concerned."
"Poor Connie! She and Jack were absolutely wrapped up in one another — never knew a brother and sister so devoted. Well, he did his duty. That's some consolation."
"I'd like to know to whom," commented Evelyn, breaking into their conversation. "Is it going to console his family any to know that because he was one of the few who had the courage to go, he's condemned to be a hopeless invalid until he dies? No, they're going to think of what those same traits of character that urged him to volunteer might have made of him if he'd stayed at home. There wasn't much of the glory of war in it for him. It was nothing but drill and drudgery for the first six months, then three days in the trenches and that was all. It was just another common soldier wounded."
"But, Eve," objected Mabel, perplexed, "suppose every one felt as you do — what would have become of us then?"
"Oh, I don't know — I suppose this war was necessary — at least every one says so — but it does seem to me sometimes as though, after all these years that the world's been going on, some other way might have been found. It's nearly 2000 years now since the teachings of Christianity were first brought to mankind and yet, when you read the history of those 2000 years, what is it but war — war — war? One so-called Christian nation turning against another so-called Christian nation, usually impelled by motives entirely un-Christian. Pah! It's enough to sicken one!"
"It's over sixty years since one Christian nation has hammered another," remarked Hooker. "They had one final orgy of killing then and I guess that was enough to last then through the rest of time. What we're doing now is merely self-defence. No civilised country wanted this war and in fact they were all so desperately anxious to keep out of it, that between them they nearly accomplished the finish of Western civilisation."
"I know," replied Evelyn; "but just suppose, instead of wasting all the wealth and energy as they did in fighting, the Western nations had spent the nineteen hundred and odd years of the Christian era in trying to spread Christianity and the brotherhood of man throughout the world—"
"You mean that in that case we wouldn't have had this job on our hands? Probably you're right. But it wasn't done and now we're paying as cheerfully as we can for the sins and omissions of our forefathers — a thing, by the way, mankind has had to do pretty much ever since the world started."
"And I think," said Mabel, "that we've had enough war and other unpleasant subjects this evening. Here's Eve growing more serious momentarily and Jimmy surrounding himself with his full pedagogical atmosphere and even you, Tom, look about as cheerful as though you'd just lost the Ariadne all over again. For goodness' sake, cheer up, people. 'Life is real, life is earnest,' I know, but it's equally true that 'a little nonsense now and then is relished by the best of men,' to say nothing of little girls like myself."
"Well, who began it, I'd like to know?" retorted Tom, selecting his cigar from the box which Harris respectfully presented.
"Guilty, me lord," she replied with such a bewilderingly fascinating glance that the enraptured officer temporarily forgot the lighted match he held and nearly burned his fingers in consequence. "But you won't tell on me, will you?
Jim, if you'll toss the case over to me when Eve's through with it, I'll be obliged."
She cleverly caught the thin box of polished gold which Merriam aimed at her, and taking from it one of the cigarettes it contained, returned the box to him as accurately as it had come.
"Aren't you starting in rather early?" hinted Hooker, holding a match for her; "or is it part of the curriculum?"
"If all the other girls of my age whom I know smoked as little as I do, Tommy, there wouldn't be the wail you hear going up all over about the degeneracy of the times. I practically don't smoke at all at college, while even Connie, who is propriety personified, has her evening cigarette regularly before she begins to study. But then, of course, I'm in training as long as the hockey season lasts."
"When I was a girl," began Mrs. Thornton with considerable dignity, "we —"
"When you were a girl, mamma," said Mabel sweetly, "they danced those awful dances that were ten times more harmful than an occasional cigarette could ever be — I've seen pictures of them in the old magazines. Talk about degeneracy!"
"Tempora mutantur," quoted Merriam. "But the surprising fact remains that each succeeding age is the only really degenerate one. I'll bet that the Puritans of Cromwell's time were convinced that the world had never seen such wicked days as those in which they lived."
"After all," began Evelyn, resting her round white arm on the table and watching the blue smoke tendrils twine upwards between her fingers, "it's a good deal a question of definition. When you say 'degenerate' —"
"Now those two will argue away for the rest of the evening," confided Mabel to the naval officer. "Come into the sitting-room, and I'll play you that new sonata I was telling you about — by that young Hebrew composer, you know, who, the critics say, is going to be a second Beethoven. I'm sure you'll like it."
He drew back her chair as she rose from her place and they passed from the room, scarcely noticed by the others. Mrs. Thornton, with a vague excuse, had departed kitchenwards, doubtless to call to the attention of the cook some minor shortcomings in the meal just finished; Mr. Thornton was already dozing as a preliminary to his after-dinner nap in the study; and Evelyn and Jim, deeply engrossed in their discussion, were oblivious to all external things.
